The upside of therapy
by SortingDumbleDear
Summary: Okay, so my mum thought therapy would be a good idea after the-incident-that-shalt-not-be-named.So now not only am I trapped in a room full of people nuttier than Grammy Pickett's Christmas fruit cake, this Jerk-off, Stan, has us writing in diary's.OCs.
1. Operator Please

**A/N - In case your a complete plonker and didn't realise, this is an original story, with original places and is not even set in Bristol. Don't like it? Don't read it, Don't care. Just deals with the same issues and shat. Enjoy.**

Dear Stupid Journal,

Okay so the Jerk-off I'm forced to call Stan insists we write in this stupid journal everyday. Yeah, Stan's an effing genius. He says he's not going to read the journals so how does he know we're actually writing? Well if it gets me out of the hell hole faster I'll write the stupid thing.

Why would someone like me, someone with such a SPARKLING PERSONALITY need therapy? Well there's a lot of things but they all lead up to the-incident-that-shalt-not-be-named. You even mention something resembling it in the least mum has to lock herself in her room with Chicken Soup for the Mother's soul and a fifth of Vodka. Hey, a woman needs her medicine. I'm not gonna judge her. Then that stupid Chicken Soup book put the idea in her head that I needed special help. I honestly don't think Veronica Jordon has ever moved so fast in her life, she jetted past my brother, Danny, and I, ripped the phone off the hook (yes we still have a wall phone) and called information.

I bet that Lady quit after the conversation with my mother.

I'm not saying anything against my mother, quite the contrary, I love her... most of the time... okay at least half... of half. But she gets these ideas in her head and has to do it then and there or else she paces, sweats wrings her hands, until either she breaks her finger or just does it. The conversation went a little like this,

Mum: Hello I'd like the number for a therapist.

Operator: What's the name?

Mum: I don't know, that's what you're supposed to tell me

Operator: Maim, I can't give you the number unless I have a name.

Mum: I don't know any therapists, if I did I could pull out the phone book and find the g-damn number myself!

Operator: Maim foul language is uncalled for, simply find a therpist and their name and I can give you their number.

Mum: I need the number of a teen therapist (This is the point where I actually started listening fully)

Operator: Maim I still can't help you.

Mum: Goddamn it! why do they even bother hiring operators? Pull your head out of your ass before I come down there and give it a foot for company!

That's when she hung up and went to find the phone book, which was holding Danny's bedroom Door closed. If that gives you a clue to the haven we live in.

After ten minutes of cussing and tossing papers around the house I had finised my frosty fruits and figured I'd tell her where the phonebok had hidden.

That was my first mistake.

When she finally found the yellow pages she nearly ripped it in half looking for the T section. Danny drove me to school, leaving mum alone with the phonebook, the phone and the alcohol.

That was my second mistake.

When I got home that night Mum announced I'd be hauling my happy ass to group therapy on Thursday and come hell or high water the-incident-that-shalt-not-be-named would never happen again.

Like I'd try that twice.

**Pt. 2 Preview:**

**Holy hell this wasn't group therapy, this was somesort of sick twisted punishment.**

**This is what happens when you steal a cookie from your Nursey school teacher's lunch.**

**Feel like reviewing? you know where to click**


	2. Emotastic

Dear Stupid Journal,

I still think this is stupid. Especially since I don't know what to do with you when I'm not writing. If I leave you at home I don't doubt mum would tear apart my bedroom to read you. If I carry you around with me my paranoia says someone will take you out of my bag or locker and honestly the last thing I need is the entire school to know exactly how fucked I am. They already think they're better than me, no need for them to Know it for a fact.

I guess I'll carry you around with me, but you're not leaving my side damn it. Anyway moving on to when I was introduced to the freakshow that is group therapy.

Thursday after school instead of going home, like mom insisted I do, I went with my best friend Seth to Brger Kng. It was Burger king, until someone stole the i and the U off the sign. Yes, somewhere in this town a person is harboring the stolen vowels.

"I don't see what the big deal is Spence." Seth shrugged, leaning against the counter as he waited for someone to come in. "Lots of people go to therapy."

Oh yeah right.

"Name two." I challenged him.

"You and umm... okay, well you put me on the spot. If I had some time,"

"Shut up Price." I ordered. "And get me a hamburger."

"I thought you were trying to be a vegitarian." Seth teased.

"Either get me a burger or I'm going to eat your arm."

Oh yes, you can just feel the love between the two of us. He got me my burger and we sat there talking about an ad on for a live chat where they have this chick faking talking to someone Kissyface27 is her name. Until Seth's phone rang.

He wasn't supposed to have it on the job, but I wasn't gonna tell.

"It's for you." Seth handed the phone over. Yeah when people needed to get ahold of me they called Seth as I don't have my own phone. Something I blame on my mother.

"Spencer Jane Jordon! What did I tell you?" My mother shouted.

"Never do coke and pot on the same night." I guessed. When My mum's drunk she gives us some very useful information.

"No! well... yeah, but no! I told you to come home right after school. You have therapy."

"Oh right. I forgot about that." I lied. "Too bad mum, I made plans."

"With who?"

"Seth."

"To do what?" Okay, this next line is proof that I don't think before I speak and that is a bad thing when you're someone like me.

"Go back to his place and shag like rabbits." Seth turned bright red and nearly choked on the bite of Hamburger he'd stolen from me.

"Spencer Jane! That's not funny! Get home now!" Before I could argue mom hung up and I dropped my head onto the cold counter.

"Do they make Imodium AD for the mouth?" I asked Seth.

"I don't think they do." I pouted and got up, grabbing my bag, and headed out.

It was a very silent, very awkward ride to the centre. I was still pissed about therapy and mum was still angry about the shagging comment. She can be such a soggy towel. So eventually we got to the place and mum WATCHED ME WALK IN to make sure I didn't run for it.

I walked into The building, the room my mother told me to and looked around.

Holy hell this wasn't group therapy, this was somesort of sick twisted punishment.

This is what happens when you steal a cookie from your Nursey school teacher's lunch.

There were about nine chairs in a circle six of the nine chairs were taken and towards the front stood a man, around thirty, probably didn't have therapist for a bunch of whiney kids on his list of things he wanted to be when he grew up.

Anyway, this ids sitting in the chairs were pretty sad. All but one were guys, and the girl had Really long redish brown hair. most of the guys were all varying levels of wannabe scene and Emo. Long bands overing one eye, rolled up cloth thing around their heads and their pants were so tight I could guess their religion.

Oh this was promising to be fun.

The man looked up and broke into a creepy 'I'm going to eat your liver' sort of grin and walked over.

"You must be Spencer." My eyes grew wide and I resisted a gasp.

"They didn't tell you?" I asked. His grin fell and was replaced with a confused look.

"Tell me what?"

"Spencer died." I placed a hand over my heart. "I'm her sister Lily, I'm here to get our money back." The guy rolled his eyes, and smiled a little.

"Oh really and how'd she die?" He asked, amused.

"A horrible blender accident. She was being a sweetheart and making our mother her favorite drink ever, Pina Colada, and while she was doing it she was taking care of our mentally retarded brother Daniel. She wasn't paying attention, was adding the last ingerdient and woosh! Her hand hit the blades. She bled out, there was nothing we could do. But mum did say those were the best Pina Coladas she'd ever had. So if I could just get the money, I need to go pay for the casket." The man laughed, shaking his head.

"Cute Miss Jordon, take a seat." I frowned and went to sit, glaring at the man.

"Nice try." The girl next to me leaned over. "I went with the nut house." I smirked and looked at her. "I'm Kelly."

"Spencer." I nodded.

"Hey, after the meeting you wanna help me stalk these posers and strangle them with their headbands?" Kelly asked.

"Sounds like a party to me." I grinned. After a moment the doors burst open and a guy with black and white hair strolled in.

"I'm here, we can get this started." He smirked.

"Egotistical." Kelly muttered to me.

"Probably compensating for other... shortcomings." I agreed. Kelly snorted and the guys all turned to look at us.

I know I might come off as together and confident, but when I have a large number of people looking at me I tend to laugh, which at a funeral is a real curse. The man smiled at me and nodded for the new guy to sit.

"Well since Miss Jordon seems so chipper, why don't you intorduce yourself first? Then we get to ask questions." I bit my lip to stop laughing and stood up.

"Umm... my name is Spencer Jordon. I hate being called Miss Jordon." I added, lookig directly at Mr. Therapist, "And... yeah." I went to sit back down but before I could a boy with blonde hair, the only one that didn't look like a sorry attempt at Emo or Scene, asked,

"Why are you here?" I froze and looked at him.

"because of the-incident-that-shalt-not-be-named." I said automatically.

"What's that?" The late guy asked.

"That whole shalt-not-be-named bit went right over your head didn't it?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, Spencer, sit down. Who wants to go next?" Mr. Therapist asked.

In my group we had Garret (The late guy), Sam, Henry, Marc (With a C) Brett, Jordan, Cody (The non-wannabe) and Kelly. Finally Mr. Therapist stood up, his creepy Liver eating grin back.

"I'm Stan Franklin, I'd rather you all called me Stan."

"Ooh treating us like equals." Kelly smirked at me.

"Too bad I was sort of hoping for a patronzing dominating therapist. Please may I have another?" I finished in a somewhat mocking whisper. Kelly smiled and looked back at Stan.

"I don't want to think about what he'd look like in leather." I choked on the air.

Now this is the story of your birth Journal.

"Okay everyone." Stan said standing up after I'd gotten done coughing up my lung. "I'm going to give you Journals. I want you to write in them any time you can and just get out your feelings."

"You know that'd be a better idea if I didn't think most of these people already wrote Journals whining about Mummy not buying them everything they want." I raised an eyebrow.

"What, did he come up with this while he chowed down on his Cheerios?" Kelly replied.

"Actually, it was while I chowed down on my Cocoa Puffs." Stan whispered loudly. Kelly shrieked and turned to him. I just laughed. I hadn't seen anyone that scared in a long time.

"Don't do that!"

And well journal, a lot less bloody and disgusting as the birth of a child, but still something that not fun to think back on.

Emotastic

**Watch for CH 3. Preview:**

**I walked into the house to find my brother doing a headstand while my mum sat on the couch watching a Spanish soap opera and crying over Ricardo's wife leaving him. **

**I'm so adopted.**


	3. Family Ties

Dear Stupid Journal,

Well that's the story of how I ended up in Looney land Population: nine. So I guess Now would be a good time to tell you more about my family.

My mum, Veronica Jordon (Nee Johnson), met my dad Robert in college. They fell in love and had my brother. Less than three months later my mum found out she was pregnant again, with yours truly. After I was born mum and dad started fighting and well Robert packed up and ran for the hills, glad to get away from his psycho wife and the irritating children so he could start anew.

My mum needs help more than I do. She has a serious alcohol problem, but none of us talk about that. We just let her have her booze and go on her merry way. It hasn't messed anything up yet so until it does we'll just look the other way.

Daniel Robert. What isn't wrong with that boy? He's under the insane impression that he's going to be a rock star. He's got the band; he just doesn't have the talent. So I'm going to be subjected to midnight band practices for the next two years, that's when I turn eighteen and I'm getting the sweet blue hell out of here.

Why did I choose to tell you this now? Well because when I got home from the hellish experience of my first Therapy session, you clamped loosely between my fingers, Danny informed me Dad called. Our conversation went a little like this,

Danny: Dad called.

Me: So?

Danny: We have to go out with him and his new family.

Me: Like hell we do.

Danny: He's going to buy us our birthday presents.

Me: fuck.

So The weekend is going to be spent with My dad, his wife Linda, Linda's two kids Kevin and Brittney, and then dad and Linda's kids, my half siblings, John, Andrew and Myra.

I thought therapy was hell, it's a breeze compared to spending anytime at all with the Steps. I don't even care that four of them aren't steps. I call them the Steps.

Running away wouldn't be too drastic right? Because that's not even the whole story. Oh I haven't told you what happened after therapy.

I walked into the house to find my brother doing a headstand while my mum sat on the couch watching a Spanish soap opera and crying over Ricardo's wife leaving him.

I'm so adopted.

So that's leaves me here, lying on my bed, Seths old Power Ranger's bedding on it. Yeah that's right, I was my best friend's charity case when it came to bedding. He'd gotten a new, bigger bed and gave me the twin sized bedding of yesteryear.

So Journal, you tell me, they say talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, what about talking to an inanimate object, and almost expecting an answer.

I'm so losing my marbles.

Anyway, back to telling you about my day.

So after I got the news that I was being forced to spend a happy little day with the Steps, I got a call from Seth requesting my presence at his place. Since mum was drunk, his dad came to pick me up and we headed to his place.

Seth's Father loves me. I don't know why. People tend to not like me, but Seth's Father thinks I'm a hoot. Go Figure.

"Hey Spencer." Mrs Price smiled. She was baking. She's always baking. I love it; their house always smells like bread and cookies.

"Spencer!" Seth's little brother and sister Jamie and Julie came running over to hug me. Honestly if I could choose any other family to live with, it'd be the Price family. They just rock in general. In the other room I could hear Mary Poppins in the next room.

"Hey mum, Spence and I are going to work on... stuff." Seth smiled. Mrs Price smiled knowingly and we headed off.

"I'll call when dinner's ready." She yelled up the stairs.

Okay, I'd like to say right here, right now, Seth and I are not dating. We've never dated and we don't plan on dating. Yeah we've kissed, I've seen him naked and vice versa, but we are NOT dating.

Too bad no one believes us.

"So, how was it?" Seth asked when we got to his room. I sat at his desk, he sat on his bed.

"Oh well you know what happens when you get a bunch of nutters together, we had a giant cutting session and cried about how our lives mean nothing." I sighed, turning on his computer.

"Oh you're funny." Seth rolled his eyes. I groaned and spun in the chair.

"Went there, introduced ourselves, got journals, I found someone to make sarcastic and grumpy remarks to." I shrugged.

"Journals?" Seth frowned. That's when you made another appearence, I pulled you out of my bag and tossed you to Seth.

"Yeah. Apparently if we write down our feelings we're a little less... whatever we're there for." I shrugged.

"Yeah... that makes no sense."

"You're telling me."

**A/N: Should point out here my own personal Seth Writes the little preview thingy's down there after reading the previous chapter and then I have to write them into the next one. It's a game we have and no you can't play. Oh the joy never ends in the world of a writer…..Now we can hold hands and skip. Feel like reviewing? Clicky,Clicky.**

**Ch. 4 coming soon. Preview:**

**"Spencer darling, I heard about your-"**

**"No! We don't speak of that." I interrupted her. As the seven of them looked at me in slight surprise I simply shrugged. If it shuts them up I'm going to randomly shout things more often.**


	4. The Steps

Dear Stupid Journal,

You don't know homicidal until you've spent a day with the Steps. Honestly I'd rather blow Garret than spend time with them.

But no one offered me the choice and I was forced to go out with the Steps. Sorry Garret.

Ahh well this glorious day started at the fucking crack of 6AM.

"Spencer, wear something decent." Mum told me. Yeah. Fucking. Right. I wore the same ratty things I always do. Mum doesn't actually care if we dress nice, it's simply a request dad makes.

Danny was already out there when I came out. He smelled like pot and looked like he was still riding what he lit up last night.

"That's a fantastic way to go out with the Steps, stoned and smelling like it." I rolled my eyes. Danny just looked at me like I had three heads and jumped about seven feet in the air when we heard dad's horn honk. My environmentally retarded father owns a Hummer. On the upside we all almost fit in there. I just had to half sit on Danny's lap.

I think I got Second hand Stoned. Maybe I was wrong about riding what he smoked last night. It smelled like he smoked it that morning.

"So Spencer, Daniel, how've you been?" Dad asked.

"Fine." I sighed and looked out the window, Danny just stared blankly. Dad backed out of the driveway and we headed out.

"Where are we going?" I asked after a while, interrupting a conversation between Linda and Brittney. I couldn't stand anymore talk of Formal dresses. And no, it's not because no one's asked me, I just don't like Formals.

"We're going to the mall. Duh" Brittney raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sorry, still working on that psychic thing." I glared at her, she glared back.

"Spencer." Dad said in his 'warning voice'. I crossed my arms and sat back in my seat/Dannys lap.

"Jesus Spence, crush my shoulder." Danny said.

"Kiss it stoner." I said, quiet enough so dad didn't hear. My dad is apparently dumber than a post. He's yet to notice Danny's tendency to be stoned off his ass when we have to do anything with them.

Apparently I fell asleep because next thing I knew I was being shaken awake and standing outside of the car.

I still don't know how I got out of the car.

"Okay, Spencer, Daniel, pick out your birthday presents, what is it, the big 15 for you Spence?" Dad grinned. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my Hoodie and rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, fifteen, again." I shook my head.

"She's sixteen." Danny said a hand on my shoulder. Mostly to keep him from wandering off and doing something stupid.

"It was your sweet sixteen?" Linda asked excitedly. "How was the party?"

"Fantastic." I'd ended up getting drunk and spending the night at Seth's.

"How big was it?" Brittney asked, glancing at my dad.

"Huge." I lied.

"I thought you spent it with your boyfriend and a bottle of Malibu." danny said, confused. Wow, when you put it like that it sounds really bad.

"She what?" Dad turned so fast I'm amazed he didn't get whiplash.

"Shut up Danny. It was Seth and we also had Orange juice, ice and a blender." I glared at my brother.

Then Linda had to bring it up.

"Spencer darling, I heard about your-"

"No! We don't speak of that." I interrupted her. As the seven of them looked at me in slight suprise I simply shrugged. If it shuts them up I'm going to randomly shout things more often.

"What did she do?" John asked, looking at dad. Damn ten year old.

"Nothing." I snapped. John frowned and looked at Linda, giant fake tears in his eyes.

"Now Spencer, no need to snap at your brother."

"Oh fuck me, like I see him more than once a month." I sneered.

"Spencer, that language is uncalled for." Dad said, people were turning to stare.

"Well if Linda would stay out of our business." Danny jumped in.

"Linda's just trying to be a good mother." Dad crossed his arms. Oh we've been over this before. Never in a public place though.

"Danny!" I grabbed his wrist. "Let's just get our shit and go to the food court." Thank the deities for the munchies.

"Fine." Danny muttered, letting me lead him around again.

One thing I can't complain about is the amount of guilt money dad spends on us. He hates that mum doesn't take the child support so the only time he can really use money to make up for abandonment is on Christmas and Birthdays.

Danny just took the money, probably to stock up for the next Family Outing. I got an I-pod, still not worth this family thing, but it was a little closer when he got me two fifty dollar I-tunes gift cards.

What can I say, I'm a material whore.

Finally we got to the Food court, and I only had to smack Danny a few times to get him to stop complaining about his hunger.

Danny and I headed to Domino's Pizza while the others went to some health food place. Ew right?

"Jack ass, do you want dad to find out you're totally out of it?" I hate my brother stoned, he get tired and hungry. Then if you challenge him he gets really macho, kicking the shit out of a coke machine that denies him his diet coke.

We got our wonderfully fattening, artary clogging food and went to sit with the Steps. Big shocker, the Health food place wasn't crowded at all.

"Dude." We looked up and guess who was there. Danny's stoner buddies, Fish and Barrel. I don't know their real names, but that's what everyone calls them.

They reeked of Pot.

Now, I love Fish and Barrel. They're like second and third brothers to me. This however, was so not a good time for them to be around.

"Fish, Barrel, dudes whass up?" the three bumped fists.

"lil sis! whass up?" Fish walked over and practically lifted me out of my seat in a hug.

"Hey Fish, Eating dinner, with... family." I love awkward moments. I love uncomfortable moments, but I didn't love the idea of dad finding out about Danny's nasty little habit.

"Oh you mean the ones with the sticks up their-"

"Excuse me young man!" Dad stood up, interrupting Barrel.

"Hey, guys, why don't you go get some soft serves and Danny and I will meet you at hawked boards?" I Suggested.

"Cool!" Fish and Barrel high fived and hurried off.

"Looks like this family time's been cut short. Sorry, thanks for the presents, come on Danny."

Oh thank god for the Stoners

**Fish and Barrel? WTF?**

**After four comes :**

**"Hey Spencer, party at my place on Friday, just for us in Group. You should come." Marc handed me a piece of paper, ripped from his Journal, don't worry, I'd never do that to you. (yeah I'm losing it, I'm trying to sooth a book)On the paper was his number and address.**

**"A party for crazies, can't wait."**


End file.
